


Behind thick, glass walls

by waywardbaby



Category: SPN, Supernatural, Supernatural AU
Genre: Dean Winchester Gives Oral Sex, Dirty Talk, F/M, Filthy, Fluffy Ending, Jealous Dean Winchester, Jealousy, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Dean Winchester, Sassy Reader, Shameless Smut, Smut, Supernatural smut, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-16 22:34:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29214987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waywardbaby/pseuds/waywardbaby
Summary: You love him and you are willing to go to extremes to show him that you don’t share what is yours.What happens when he turns the tables on you?
Relationships: Dean Winchester x Reader, Dean Winchester/You
Comments: 4
Kudos: 36





	Behind thick, glass walls

**Author's Note:**

> This is AU where Dean Winchester is an owner of a club.

* * *

* * *

Low lights alternating between deep reds, warm yellows and oranges.

Loud, seductive music being played through the huge speakers.

Bodies tangled in two’s or three’s on the dance floor.

The atmosphere is thick and lust-filled as the people keep grinding against one another, completely lost and surrendered to the songs that seem to never end, keeping everyone pulsating.

There are people of different ages packed on the dance floor but mostly around their mid-twenties to early thirties.

This place is quite exclusive and there are certain standards that must be met in order to be let in. Usually recommendations from another customer, a very thick wallet or a very big name is what it takes to get someone through the doors 

Whatever the standards, though, everyone in here has one thing in common. They want to have fun, relax, meet other people without fear or anxiety. The club makes sure that all its customers find what they are looking for without being judged.

You are dancing in the arms of a man you don’t know, your back to his front as his arms are around your waist, gripping you tight. Every once in a while his fingers move under your tiny top to touch your skin or they sink lower to caress your naked thigh, right where your short skirt barely covers your ass.

Your head is resting on his chest and your eyes are closed as you feel the music run through your veins. Raising your arms you lock them behind his neck and swirling your hips, you brush your ass over his cock which you have been feeling straining under his pants for a while now.

You feel two smaller hands touching your waist and you open your eyes to see who they belong to. A beautiful young girl of about the same age as you is standing right in front of you and starts dancing too, finding and keeping the same rhythm as you and the man behind you. You smile and place one arm on the crook of her neck, drawing her closer.

Her lips touch yours and you reciprocate, kissing her deeply. At the same time, you feel another pair of lips from behind you, sucking your flesh right below your ear.

All three of you move together, dancing, kissing, grinding against each other.

You are not too tipsy to understand what is going on but at the same time tipsy enough to blame alcohol for your actions.

As the song changes, you turn around and you are now facing the tall man, who as it turns out, is quite handsome. Dark hair and piercing blue eyes are looking at you, clouded by lust. His thigh moves between your legs making you practically ride him, rubbing your pussy on the material of his pants.

“You are so hot.” He says and you smile at him and lick your lips. “What’s your name?” He asks, bending closer to your ear so you can hear him. The girl that is now behind you is busy kissing your shoulder and cupping your right breast with her hand.

“Does it matter?” You answer his question with another question.

“I guess not. You wanna know mine?”

You giggle at his naivety and you say : “No, not really.”

The poor dude thinks he’s gonna fuck you tonight. He doesn’t know that all this, the dancing, the grinding, the kissing is part of a plan.

How could he know, really.

You keep dancing when suddenly you feel that the girl has left from behind you and see her now standing next to you, looking at someone. A hand touches your shoulder and you turn to see who it is.

“That’s enough, Y/N.”

_Of course._

“Leave me alone, Sam.” You reply and continue to dance.

Sam is the club owner’s right hand man, his go to man when something is wrong, when something or someone needs ‘fixing’ of some kind.

He is Dean Winchester’s right hand.

Your boyfriend’s right hand.

The same boyfriend you want to teach a lesson tonight.

You had seen him the other night, chatting with one of the waitresses. Being closer that he needed to be. She had her hand on his arm and she was talking to him, smiling and looking at him like a fucking meal she wanted to devour.

You couldn’t blame her because damn he was fucking sex on legs but that didn’t mean that she or anybody else could touch him.

So, this here tonight is payback. This whole show that you had carefully planned in your head as you were a million percent sure that Dean would sooner or later see you and send Sam for you.

Sam is tall, very tall, easily spotted among a crowd and although he’s not too buffed he is very strong. His hair is long and his eyes always reminded you of a kaleidoscope, changing colors according to his mood, it seemed. His eyes are the only thing you like about him. Dressed in a tight black tee and black jeans, he has his arms crossed over his chest and you are sure he is looking at you although your back is still to him.

The fact that he is here, now, means that your plan has worked.

“I said, that’s enough.” He repeats in a louder, more commanding voice and moves his hand to grab your arm.

“Dude, leave her alone.”

The man dancing with you makes a move to come between you and Sam believing you are in some kind of danger.

Sam releases your arm and turning a little, faces your ‘protector’. Straightening his posture, he almost towers over him and gives him a warning through gritted teeth: “I strongly advise you to turn around and not fuck with things you don’t know. _Dude_.”

Grabbing you by the arm again, he starts pushing you towards the back of the club and off the dance floor. You desperately try to keep up with his long strides but your high heels make that task quite difficult. If you add your tipsiness to the equation things are even more difficult for you.

When he sees that you can’t really keep up with him, he slows down and helps you go up the set of stairs that lead to Dean’s office and to the upper, more vip section of the club. The bouncer that is always standing by the stairs, takes one look at you and shakes his head, disapprovingly.

The upper level is the place where everyone dreams of getting the chance to be. It’s a huge round balcony that looks over the dance floor below. There’s a separate bar on one side where very beautiful girls and boys tend to the customers’ orders. They are dressed in all black and they practically look as if they had been chosen through a modeling agency.

In the middle of the balcony is Dean’s office. From the outside, it looks like a big, black cube because it is made of one way black mirrors, so he can always see what’s going on but no one can see inside.

There are plush black couches on either side of the cube where men and women sit, drink or more often than not make out when just a few inches away, on the other side of the glass, in the office, other people may be talking business.

The door of the office is in the back of the cube and can’t be easily spotted. There’s another bouncer standing there and nods his head towards Sam. Before he pushes a small round button to let Dean know you’re there, Sam rakes you from top to bottom and says : “For fucks sake Y/N, fix your clothes.”

You roll your eyes at him and you adjust the straps of your top and smooth your skirt over your thighs. Faking a smile, you look at him and stick your tongue out. You seriously don’t like him. He’s so loyal to Dean, doing his every bid, following his every command. The amount of his devotion makes you a little sick.

And you’re almost sure that he doesn’t like you either. You can see it in his eyes that he just thinks of you the spoiled little bitch who’s fucking the boss.

He’s wrong, though.

You love Dean. You love him so much. But that love is woven together with jealousy. That jealousy was the reason for your whole show tonight.

But you don’t care if Sam likes you or not. You have nothing to prove to him.

So, resuming your trusted bitch face you say : “Can I ask you a question, Sammy?” The use of his name like that is a clear testament to how little you think of him.

He stands there, waiting, clearly annoyed.

Taking a step closer to him, you run your finger along his jawline and standing on your tiptoes, you whisper in his ear : “Aren’t you tired of being Dean’s lap dog? His bitch?”

He doesn’t answer you but presses the small button on the door and immediately a buzzing sound is heard and the door clicks open. Sam holds it so you can enter, a clear and wide ‘suck it’ smile on his face.

You walk inside and the music that’s heard in the club invades the office only to be completely muted when the door closes behind you.

The office is lit by small ceiling lights and sparsely furnished. There is a leather couch right next to the door with a small coffee table in front of it. Dean’s office is made of thick, black wood and his chair is of the same leather as the couch. On the far left corner, there’s a small bathroom, fitted with a shower that you two have used on many occasions. 

Together.

He is standing next to his desk, looking out over the people who are dancing right on the other side of the glass wall and on the level below. His back is to you and you can’t help but admire his body.

His shoulders are broad and his back is clearly defined under his shirt that is crying for mercy. His black jeans show off his strong, bow legs and the curve of his delectable ass. You tilt your head to the right a little, admiring this perfect man and images of you in more intimate circumstances flash through your mind’s eye. Images of him fucking you on the couch right next to you or you sucking his cock in your mouth as he is sitting in his office chair.

But you can also understand by the stiffness of his posture that he is beyond pissed. His arms are by his sides and his hands are balled into fists. He turns his head a little to the left and motions at you with a move of his long, thick fingers.

“Come here.” His voice is low, deep and totally intimidating.

You are not scared of him, though. In fact you were counting on this reaction. So, you don’t move from your spot. You stay there, looking at him.

Not talking.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart? Are your legs tired by all your dancing and you can’t take the few steps to come closer as I have asked you? Or do you only function when you have someone pressed against you from behind with their hands touching you?”

He made a small pause and turned around to look at you.

“Touching what’s mine?”

Even under the low lights of the room, you can see his emerald eyes piercing through you. You love his eyes. They are so intense, so beautiful. All his emotions could be clearly seen in them.

When he’s happy, they sparkle. When he’s turned on, they’re almost black, his dilated pupils covering almost the entirety of the green. When he’s angry, they are olive.

Like they are now.

His clenched jaw is visible under his perfect beard and you can’t help but remember how it feels rubbing against your thighs when he’s between your legs.

He moves slowly towards you, carefully like a lion circling a deer and comes to stand right behind you. His arms snake around your waist and bending his head, he whispers in your ear.

“Let me help you.”

He starts walking, pushing you forward and you let him. You keep walking till you have both reached the spot he had been standing before. Right in front of the glass wall.

“Take a look down there sweetheart. Tell me what you see.” He says, his fingers still on your waist, squeezing.

“What do you mean?” You ask, understanding where he’s going with this but not planning on making it easy for him.

He nuzzles your neck with his nose and repeats : “Look out there, baby, and tell me what you see.”

You know that he’s pissed at you, sending Sam to get you but you have to admit that this is not the way you had pictured things would go down.

With his body pressing against yours, his hands on your waist, his breath in your ear. So you decide to play along and see where it leads you.

“I see people dancing.”

“Mmmmmm. You can see them clearly, can’t you?” He asks.

“Yes.”

“You can see them touching, kissing, moving to the music…right? Hot, turned on…you can see them very clearly, huh?”

“Yes.” You repeat.

“Then, tell me my babygirl…did you think that I wouldn’t see your whole show with that douchebag before? His hands touching your skin, your thighs? His lips kissing your shoulder and his dick pressing against your beautiful, tight ass? Laying his fucking paws on what belongs to me?!”

You turn around in his arms and take a step back so that your back is resting against the glass. Tilting your head to the left you smirk at him and licking your lips, you say : “Baby, I knew you could see me. I was counting on it.”

He’s a little taken aback by your reply, his eyebrows shooting up for a fleeting second but he quickly regains his serious composure.

Moving closer to you, he places his hands on either side of your head, leaning on the glass wall and lowers his frame a little so he could look in your eyes. His sweet scent floods your senses and you fight with everything that you have not to inhale like an animal in heat.

“Explain babygirl. Tell me why you risked having that douchebag’s head bashed into a pulp? Because I was this close to coming down there and tearing him apart.”

“You would do that, Dean? Beat someone up just because they touched me?”

His right arm drops from the window and caresses your cheek, then moves over your lips his thumb rubbing them softly. He traces a line along your jaw and runs them along the side of your neck. His fingers barely touch your collarbone, slip lower between your breasts and stop there.

“Look at me babygirl.”

You raise your eyes and look at him exactly as he has instructed you. You see his eyebrows as they are still closely pulled together, his left one cocked seductively high.

“You belong to me. No one else is allowed to look at you, breathe close to you, let alone touch you. When I sometimes think that someone else has kissed you before me, tasted you, been inside you, it drives me insane. When I picture you in someone else’s bed, making those sweet sounds you make when you’re about to come…?”

His hand falls lower, slowly lifting your tiny skirt and sneaking under it. His fingers ghost over your pussy, playing with the material of your panties never breaking eye contact with you. 

“I can’t stand the thought of someone else fucking your sweet pussy, feeling you clench around them…” He pulls your underwear to the side and your legs part a little as if they have a mind of their own. His middle finger sinks inside you and you just then realize that you are soaking wet.

“Mmmmmm, baby, I love how wet you are for me.”

He licks his lips and slowly kisses you while at the same time his thumb starts rubbing your clit. Little by little, his fingers work you faster, the need inside you growing bigger with every deep pumping, with every precise swipe over your swollen bud.

You grab his bicep in desperate need to hold on to something, moaning shamelessly into his kiss. You forget everything that has been occupying your thoughts up until a while ago and the only thing you need is to have him inside you. You want this man to fuck you deep and good.

Right next to people dancing just a few inches away.

“I want you so fucking bad.” He whispers against your lips and he pulls his fingers out of you, quickly unzipping his pants. You wince and whine at the loss of his thick fingers but it’s like he has read your mind.

He flips you around so you are facing the other way, looking out over the people who are dancing just outside, completely unaware of what is going on. Lifting your skirt around your waist, he grabs your thong and shreds it. Fisting a handful of your hair and turning your head to the side, he growls in your ear : **“I wanna fuck you right against the glass so everyone can see how good you take it.** If only this wasn’t a one way mirror, baby girl.”

The sound of his belt buckle as it hits the floor prepares you for what is going to happen next. You feel the head of his cock, right at your entrance and then the delightful burn of him stretching you. He bends his knees a little and thrusts slowly upwards filling you.

“Fuck yes, Dean.” You moan and he starts moving, a relentless pounding of him inside you, hitting your sweet spot over and over again. His right hand goes around your throat and starts squeezing just a little, just enough.

“Tell me how much you want this. Tell me that I’m the only one who will ever get to be inside you. The only one who will ever fuck your tight, sweet pussy. Tell me!” He hisses right next to your ear as he holds you up against the window, fucking you so good that it should be considered illegal.

The vibrations on the glass from the music that’s blasting from the other side, the way his dick is throbbing inside you, burning you, stretching you, his hand around your throat and his deep voice in your ear is making coherent thought a little difficult to master.

“Yes, yes, yes. You’re the only one.” You answer, your voice coming out in short breaths.

“I want your pussy in my mouth. I want to eat you out babygirl. And then I want you to ride my cock till I fill you up with my come. Till I stain you with it so everyone knows that you’re mine.”

He pulls out of you and you turn around to see him discarding his pants completely and slipping his shirt over his head. You’re standing motionless, against the glass and you watch him.

He’s so fucking perfect.

His skin, covered in those tiny freckles.

Strong hands that can give you so much pleasure.

And his cock. It’s so hard and glistening, covered in your juice that you just lick your lips, picturing it in your mouth.

“Not now baby.” He says, like he has read your mind. “Strip and get on the couch for me. I want you kneeling on it and supporting yourself on the back of it.”

You take off your top and skirt and you only keep your high heels on. You seductively move towards the piece of furniture and kneel on it, your legs a few inches apart so he could clearly see your soaked cunt. You lean over its back and wait.

His big hands touch your ass and squeeze it, parting you, exposing you to his hungry eyes more.

You can hear him as he takes in a sharp breath and then you feel his mouth there. Greedily and hungrily devouring your whole pussy. His lips suck and his tongue spreads you as he repeatedly flutters it inside you. You are clenching so bad that he can feel you spasming in his mouth.

“You wanna come, don’t you?” He whispers against your folds and starts lapping at your entrance again. “Your pussy is burning babygirl and every time you clench I can feel you dripping more and more.” He continues the sinful dance of his tongue and you just feel like you are either gonna come so hard or faint from the pleasure building up inside you.

“Mmmm, you taste so fucking good, so sweet. But you can’t come yet. Not until I fuck you good and deep babygirl.”

He takes the seat right next to you and turning your head to the right you see him pumping his thick cock slowly, squeezing it and making little drops of precome appear. Once again you feel the need to lick him clean, have his cock fuck your throat but once again he interrupts your train of though.

“Come darling. Ride it.”

You get off your knees and spreading your legs you straddle his hips. You shamelessly open your pussy lips with your fingers and rub your cunt along his dick, coating it with your slick.

“My God, I will never not feel so fucking lucky that I got you babygirl. But enough teasing.” He grips you tight and raises your whole body so your entrance is hovering a couple of inches over his cock. “Guide me inside you. Now.”

Reaching between you, you align the head of his cock to your needy entrance and slowly sink down allowing the delightful stretch to burn you.

“Fuck, you’re so tight baby. So perfectly wrapped around me. Now, go ahead. Do as I told you. Ride my dick till you come on it. Ride me till I fill you up.”

You throw your head back and start gyrating your hips as his hands keep you impaled on his throbbing dick. You pinch and tug at your nipple with one hand as the other one is playing with your clit, rubbing hard and fast circles on it.

You look down at him and see him looking between your connected bodies, right where your pussy is swallowing his cock and then up at you. You keep playing with yourself and it’s barely audible as he whispers : “Fuck, you’re such a good little slut for me.” 

His hips snap upwards, lifting you a little and having you bouncing on his lap and he pulls you closer to him so he can suck your other nipple in his mouth. He bites and licks at your stiff peak adding to the amount of pleasure you feel surging through your body and hitting you right at your core.

“Oh my God, Dean. Just like that…I’m so close.” You manage to say as your pussy clenches around his pulsing cock.

“I know baby.” He says, releasing your nipple from his mouth with a pop. “I can feel you squeezing me. And I’m right there with you. I’m gonna fill you up with my come so good. Stain that sweet pussy so everyone knows who it belongs to.”

“Yes, yes, yes.” You repeat over and over again till you come hard on his cock that keeps fucking you. Your head falls on his shoulder and your teeth sink into his flesh. In a matter of seconds, you feel him spilling inside you, his seed hot and thick. His grip on your waist becomes tighter and his hips falter a little but he doesn’t stop till he’s completely empty.

He stays inside you for a while longer, neither of you moving, both trying to regain your strength. Wrapping his arm around your waist, he flips you over on the couch and slips out of you. Standing above you, he looks at you and hums appreciatively.

“Look at you babygirl. Gloriously fucked, my come dripping out of you. This is what I call a sight.”

Moving over to the pile of his clothes, he puts on his underwear and goes to the small bathroom. You follow him with your eyes and you see him wetting a towel with warm water and coming back to where you are. He keeps your legs spread and carefully cleans you. After he’s done, he dispenses the dirty towel and sitting next to you, draws you on his lap and wraps his arms around you. You settle in his embrace with your head against his chest.

“Babygirl?”

“Mmhmmm?”

“Why did you do all that tonight? Why did you make me so jealous?”

“Because I saw you with that waitress the other day, Dean. Talking, her hand on your arm and her eyes ready to devour you. I wanted you to see how it feels.”

“Darling,” he starts, kissing the top of your head. “Don’t you know that there’s no other woman for me? I’m in love with you. I want you, every single minute of every single day. And I’m yours. I could never be anyone else’s. Your jealous, hot ass owns me, heart and soul.”

You look up at him and you only say : “Right back atcha. And don’t you forget it.”


End file.
